


we got moves

by ladypeaceful



Series: each time the universe splits, i'll find you in the stars again [1]
Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Canon Trans Character, Getting Together, M/M, Meet-Cute, also theres vague allusions to penetrative sex if thats a significant thing to you, i gave myself whiplash writing this, i had to resist the temptation to make everyone gay, i only kind of succeeded, ive never projected this hard in my life ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 03:09:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19880623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladypeaceful/pseuds/ladypeaceful
Summary: matteo and amira get roped into helping their friends move into a new apartment. extremely self-indulgent meet-cutes ensue. from matteo’s pov.





	we got moves

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote a fic for the first time in like 2 years thanks druck for ending my drought i thought i was never gonna write again disclaimer it’s littered with a fair amount of fandom inside jokes and references have fun spotting them all and warning for a little nsfw okay bye!!!
> 
> the premise of this is that 1) i got roped into helping friends move into their new place so i'm projecting obviously, 2) this was supposed to be like 1k but now it’s really fucking long oops, and 3) i wrote a lot of this on my phone the day before amira's season started so it might be a little messy. also, in this universe david has had his top surgery!!!

He shows up a little after one in the afternoon at Mohammed's place, absentmindedly poking at the hole in the pocket of his shorts as he pulls out his phone to send off a brief _im here momo!!_ before rubbing away the sweat that's already dripping down his face. It's a sweltering 32 degrees outside, which is the only reason why he had forgone his usual jeans. Digging through his scarce collection of non-pants had yielded the ones he was currently wearing, plus an honestly horrifying pair of khakis he can't even remember ever having purchased.

His phone buzzes and he has to squint against the sun to decipher Mohammed's reply: _im upstairs with omar but we're trying to fit my couch thru the door so might be a hot second. left key 4 u under the dead plant outside but can u bring david in with u too if u see him? he should be here soon_

Matteo is in the middle of typing back _what does he look like_ when he hears the unmistakable clicks of a bicycle being walked down the street, and a snatch of laughter mid-conversation. He looks up to see two people coming in his direction; one of them is an extremely pretty girl, who he recognizes from class last semester, clad in a grey hijab over a set of workout clothes. Very sensible, Matteo thinks, given the grueling labor they're about to put themselves through. The other person, the one walking the bike, is a strikingly beautiful boy who seems to have been the source of the laughter and whose smile is somehow even more blinding than the sun, for which Matteo is suddenly immensely glad to be able to pass off how red his face feels.

The boy, who must be David, is the first to catch sight of Matteo and raises a hand in greeting; Matteo reciprocates, if somewhat dazedly, with a wave. His brain is involuntarily filled with every excuse he can think of to visit Mohammed at his flat next year if _this_ is the guy he's living with. The injustice of it all.

"Matteo, right? Amira says she knows you from school." David asks once they're close enough to not have to shout.

"Yeah, sociology." Matteo extends a hand to her, which she shakes with an unreadable gleam in her eye. "How'd you do on the written final? I really liked your oral presentation." This kind of small talk is routine; most of his interactions at university were surface-level, easily forgotten. But Amira was different; she was outspoken in the classroom, never afraid to voice her opinions. Matteo hadn't really talked to her before and kind of regrets it now; maybe he would have met David sooner.

"Aced it. Wouldn't have been able to without David here though. It's his major, after all." Matteo files this new information carefully away in the corner of his brain that is now dedicated to David: roommate of Mohammed, friend of Amira, sociology major, with a voice like velvet and a thin silver ring in his septum. He knows he's being ridiculous, of course; he's known the guy for two seconds and is already smitten without needing to know anything about him. How very gay of him, he thinks with an inward chuckle.

"I could use some tutoring," Matteo ventures, sparing a glance at David and feeling his breath catch in his throat when intense brown eyes meet his gaze.

"I'd be happy to offer my services." There's something about his voice that hints at a laugh lingering beneath the surface despite how steady his words are. Like he knows exactly the kind of effect he's having on Matteo, and is enjoying it.

"Alright, boys, I'd love to keep chit chatting but it's hot as balls, so let's take this inside, shall we?" Amira cocks an eyebrow at David, who flashes a cheeky grin at her as he locks his bike and tugs up the edge of his tank top to wipe at his sweaty forehead. Matteo doesn't dare look at him directly in case he chokes on his own spit and humiliates himself forever.

The key jams when Matteo tries to turn it in the lock at first and he curses at it until the door finally swings open. It's not much cooler inside but at least they're not burning to a crisp anymore as they make their way inside and up three flights of stairs. "Mohammed better not have a ton of heavy shit," Matteo grumbles. David snickers and Matteo doesn’t know whether to be pleased or miffed.

They're met at the front door of Mohammed's and Omar's place with the couch that they clearly have successfully gotten through the door but is now blocking a good two thirds of the walkway outside. Matteo yells for his friend through the open doorway, and the next moment Mohammed comes scrambling over the couch to engulf Matteo in a rib-crushing bear hug.

"And you brought your friend, _alhamdulillah_!" Mohammed says to David as he relinquishes a winded Matteo and turns to smile widely at Amira, who has suddenly gone wide-eyed when she stammers out a less-than-composed "Nice to meet you." Matteo has calmed down enough at this point to be able to exchange smirks with David, and the act feels so familiar already that his stomach does a little flip anyway.

"The pleasure's all mine," Mohammed replies smoothly, though he's betrayed by the hand he brings to the back of his neck as he continues to look at Amira like she's brought the sun indoors with her.

"Razzouk, get your ass back in here and stop flirting with my sister!" Omar calls from where he's now within Matteo's line of sight.

Matteo gapes a little at Amira as they make their way inside, trailing behind Mohammed and David picking their way through the boxes littered throughout the hallway, some stacked and labeled, others yet to be taped shut. "Omar is related to you?"

"Unfortunately," Amira sticks out her tongue.

Omar flips her off without even looking. "Matteo would have met you sooner if you came to visit your poor brother more often. He's been over here playing Zelda with Mohammed like every other day."

"I was doing you a favor," Amira counters playfully as they enter what had been Mohammed's room and is now stripped of everything except his bed. "Didn't want to upstage you by being the infinitely cooler sibling in every possible context."

David laughs and the sound reignites the fire in Matteo's belly that he had only just managed to extinguish temporarily. "She's got you there, dude."

"The real reason," Amira tells Matteo as they're lugging the first load of boxes downstairs and into Omar's car, "is that I was going to school in Hamburg before and I only transferred here this spring and I've been too swamped to do anything except school stuff. Otherwise I definitely would have graced you with my presence before now."

"Noted," Matteo replies, feeling oddly brave choosing his next words. "If we have another class together next year, I'll do everything I can to embarrass you with my presence then. Gotta make up for lost time, you know." He's usually not this brazen with someone he doesn’t know well, but Amira already feels like a close friend.

"Count me in," David says from where he's perched on top of the car, tying down some of the less fragile boxes to the roof. Matteo looks up at him, and there are those deep brown eyes again. Matteo thinks that maybe David can see right into his soul. "I'm transferring here starting this fall."

Matteo feels lightheaded suddenly. "Nice. What year?"

"It'll be my third. You?"

"Second year, but I took a gap year before starting uni."

"Oh, awesome. Where did you go?"

Matteo flushes. "Um. Moabit."

David raises an eyebrow and _damn,_ it's sexy. The lingering flames in his stomach, completely irrelevant to the sun beating down on their bodies, flare up and threaten to overrun his entire being.

"So, like. Twenty minutes away from here?"

"Yeah, I uh. Had a lot going on at home and couldn't go far away even though I wanted to. So I chilled and did a couple internships and sorted out some stuff."

"You're so lucky you have that flatshare," Mohammed says, then redirects the rest to David. "He has the coolest roommates. Also the weirdest combination of people you could imagine. But in a good way."

Matteo spots an opportunity and takes it, feeling more reckless than he's ever dared to be. "Yeah, it's because none of us are straight, Momo. The gays know how to throw a good party." Heart pounding, he observes David's reaction out of the corner of his eye; the edges of his lips curl up into a lopsided smirk that Matteo wants to kiss right off his gorgeous face. He's _so_ fucked.

"You're not wrong," Omar joins in. "Their place is usually fucking lit like every Saturday night."

"Seems like I'll have trouble keeping my grades up this year then," David shakes his head, hopping off the car and landing inches away from Matteo. Their arms brush for the briefest moment and it's that moment when Matteo finally succumbs to the heat inside him, because he feels the same heat emanating off David. It's intoxicating.

"You guys party over the summer too? Got anything going on this weekend?" David asks him as they make their way back up to get more boxes.

"Not yet, but we can change that. I think it's my turn to buy the alcohol though," Matteo wrinkles his nose.

“I'll chip in if it means I can get shitfaced my first weekend in town." David sounds borderline giddy.

"Deal."

\--

It takes the better part of the next four hours to completely clear the apartment of all of Mohammed's belongings and take everything to the new place. The sun is starting to go down by the time everyone agrees to reconvene the next day to move David's stuff out of his place, and Amira proposes food before they go their separate ways for the night.

"I would murder all of you for pizza right now," Matteo groans from where he's flopped over the entire couch that is now haphazardly in the middle of the new living room.

"Pizza it is," Mohammed concurs, pulling out his phone to order. "What are we getting?"

"Veggie," Amira pokes her head out of the bathroom. Omar echoes her request from the kitchen.

"Whatever is fine, I just want tzatziki sauce on mine," Matteo says, muffled slightly by the couch cushion.

David taps his chin. "Anchovies."

_That's bold,_ Matteo thinks privately to himself, but Amira doesn't hesitate to insult her friend out loud.

"You're disgusting but we've known each other too long for me to care now."

"Don't attack me for living my life. Besides, that's not the grossest thing I eat, according to most people."

Matteo has no self control. "What is, then?"

David shrugs. "Most people give me shit for dipping fries in my milkshake."

"That _is_ gross," Matteo agrees cheerfully.

David throws a handful of packing peanuts at his face and falls over laughing when half of them end up sticking in his hair. Matteo has never been more in love.

They devour the pizza in half the time it takes to get delivered, arguing all the while about the worst food combinations that could exist, and then there's a flurry of rushed goodbyes and exchanging numbers (including a heartstopping moment when David covers Matteo's _entire hand_ with his, completely unnecessarily, as he takes Matteo's phone to type in his number) before they all head home. Matteo hugs everyone goodbye and gets to David last, only letting himself linger for an extra couple seconds but duly noting the way David clenches the back of his shirt before they pull away.

He's barely made it halfway down the street when his phone screen lights up.

_sweet dreams, florenzi_

***

It's raining the next morning when Matteo wakes up to about thirty messages from a new group chat (titled _we got moves_ courtesy of David) and he spends twenty minutes lying in bed scrolling and smiling like a sap. The first couple messages are from David, giving his address and telling everyone that his sister would be around to help them move as well. The conversation quickly devolved into memes and banter after that. Matteo contributes a couple of gifs of his own, which David is the first to reply to.

_good morning meme king florenzi_

He rolls out of bed and almost crashes headlong into Mia on his way to the bathroom because he's too busy grinning at his phone. Her incredulous expression quickly changes into a knowing smirk when she catches sight of Matteo's face and he can't even bring himself to care because his cheeks hurt from how hard he's smiling.

"What's gotten into you," she teases, prodding him in the chest as she sidesteps him and heads back into her room.

He very nearly replies with "Nothing yet," instead just gives her a saucy wink before shutting the bathroom door.

\--

An hour later, the rain still hasn't let up, and Matteo is the first one to arrive at David's place so he's invited to wait upstairs. In the kitchen he meets Laura, David's sister, who eyes Matteo up and down approvingly before saying to David, "He _is_ cute. Lucky you."

David is so adorably flustered for the next ten minutes that it's almost enough for Matteo to forget how his own ears must be the brightest shade of scarlet in existence.

They sit in David's room for a while, talking about nothing in particular. All the boxes are neatly sealed and labeled except for one, and he lets his curiosity get the better of him. David caves easily, only refusing once to show him the contents before he lifts a stack of thick sketchbook pages, some paper-clipped together, off the top layer. Matteo can see more sketchbooks and art supplies underneath, but he figures he's probably got time to delve into David's stuff more thoroughly in the future. All in due course.

What David does show him is already amazing. Rough charcoal sketches of the streets of Hamburg and a couple of the Berlin skyline, a few nature-y watercolors of lakes and birds and flowers and mountains, a handful of vivid portraits that have been cleaned up and carefully, meticulously lined in ink. It all looks effortless, even though Matteo can imagine the time and energy David must have poured into his work.

The last page, the bottom of the pile that had been paper-clipped and hidden from sight, David keeps out of Matteo's reach, a smile playing around his lips as he insists that it's private. Matteo grabs for it and misses, his elbow knocking against David's shoulder and they're nose to nose before Matteo realizes what's happening.

He's _this close,_ he can feel David's breath mixing with his own, can see David's long, long lashes flutter as he looks down at Matteo's lips, when they hear the front door swing open and jump apart at the sound of voices coming into the apartment. Matteo mutters, "Fuck," in a low voice, trying to compose himself, but feels a new rush of excitement surge through him when David takes his hand and gives it a squeeze, as if to silently promise, _Later._

\--

Matteo suspects it's because of Laura's influence, but it takes them less time than it did yesterday to get David's stuff loaded up (this time, into Laura's car) even with the rain, which has slowed to a drizzle and only mildly inconveniences the mission of transporting cardboard boxes that are fairly vulnerable to water.

Matteo doesn't even mind, the cool rain on his skin a welcome reprieve from yesterday's scorching heat. David, however, digs a dark blue beanie out of a box at one point, claiming that his hair is enough of a mess as it is and the added moisture would only make matters worse. Matteo wants so badly to run his fingers through it either way, and settles for fantasizing about seven different scenarios involving him tugging that beanie off later in the night.

Laura pulls David aside during one of their last trips downstairs to whisper in his ear. Matteo eyes them with uncertainty, especially when David honest-to-God _giggles_ and then meets Matteo's eyes. Feeling uncharacteristically bold again, he raises his eyebrows to ask _What?_

David simply points down the stairwell. Matteo peers over the railing to see Amira and Mohammed huddled together in hushed conversation, looking at something on Amira's phone.

The elated look in Amira's eyes when Matteo passes her a few minutes later is more than enough to clue him into the fact that she's in the exact same situation with Mohammed that he is with David. He nudges her teasingly, glancing at Mohammed's retreating back before looking back at Amira, who smacks his shoulder with the back of her hand. That's confirmation enough.

\--

Since they had an earlier start than the day before, it’s only about four o’clock when Mohammed sets down the last box in David’s new room and lets out a triumphant whoop. Upon finishing the assembly of David’s bed, Laura, with her sleeves rolled up and hair pulled back in a messy bun, high fives Amira and offers to take everyone out for an early dinner since they hadn’t really eaten lunch beyond a couple of granola bars and apples.

“I want some greasy unhealthy shit,” David says. He looks worn out but happy, curled up on his bare mattress despite Laura telling him earlier to put sheets on it first. “Let’s go to Tommi’s.”

They pile into Laura’s car and in the chaos of Omar blasting music from his phone and Mohammed and Amira singing along, Matteo makes sure that he presses his entire thigh up against David’s. Holding him to that promise from earlier. David responds by placing his hand, palm up, on his own knee. Instead of taking it, Matteo traces patterns in the lines of his palm until David bites back a smile and whispers, “I thought you said you weren’t an artist.”

Matteo doesn’t know how to respond in a way that isn’t disgustingly cheesy, like _I’m not but you’re a work of art_ or _Yeah, but you can be my muse_. So he settles for his usual twelve-year-old level of flirting by grabbing David’s beanie off his head and adding to the noise inside the car as David, yelling insults at him, tries and fails to get it back.

\--

Tommi’s is weirdly packed even though it’s too early for dinner, and the six of them squeeze together in a booth meant for four and order enough food for a feast. Matteo is squished between David and Mohammed, and the number of times Amira reaches across the table to smack Mohammed or flick his nose or whatever has him being the giggly one now. It’s easy to blame his constant bumping into David’s side on Mohammed, but when David eventually hooks his ankle around Matteo’s under the table with unmistakable intent, he has to fight the urge to kiss him right there.

David, being the little shit that Matteo has quickly learned he is, orders fries and a caramel milkshake alongside his burger.

“You can’t do this to me,” he complains. “This isn’t fair. You may have desensitized Amira to your gross habits--”

“Are you saying I’m the superior friend, Matteo?” Amira cuts in. “Because you’re right.”

“I’m saying that I’m _eating_ and David is about to make me lose my appetite.”

“Oh, really?”

That tone of voice makes Matteo regret his words immediately, and that familiar burst of heat unfurls in his chest again. David has that fucking look on his face. The same one he had when he was alone with Matteo in his room. When Matteo’s set him a challenge he knows he can beat, when he knows he has control over Matteo. He has a feeling that he’s going to get very used to seeing this side of David and he hopes that the thrill of it never fades.

When the fries arrive, David doesn’t hesitate to dip one into his shake and waggle it in Matteo’s face, and he pretends to retch. But then David, irresistible, scheming, downright _evil_ David, has the nerve to _lick_ the fry instead of actually biting into it. Matteo knows that of course he’s doing it to rile him up but Mohammed wheezing with laughter and Amira going “How old _are_ you, honestly” keeps him from losing all control and pouncing right then and there.

(When David does eventually stuff his face full of milkshake-covered fries, and Matteo still wants to kiss the living daylights out of him, he knows then that David’s got him whipped for good.)

\--

Matteo invites all of them back to his flatshare to hang out and recover from their impending food comas. He grabs from the fridge beers for David and Laura and sparkling waters for the others. They sit around the coffee table in the living room and Matteo lets himself be more and more touchy with David as the hours go by and the empty beer bottles grow in number.

He still doesn’t want to kiss him for the first time in front of the others (he can tell David doesn’t either, and is glad for the silent agreement between them) but he’s sprawled out on the ground against David’s chest, with David’s hand lying on his midriff, dangerously close to the waistband of his pants. 

Amira is in the middle of recounting some legendary childhood prank she pulled on Omar and their youngest brother, Essam, and Matteo is only half listening, enjoying the way the beer has loosened up every muscle in his body and also the way David’s chest rises and falls under his weight. It’s the most comforting place he can remember being in a very, very long time, and he lets his eyes slip closed. Sleep overtakes him easily, gently.

\--

The next thing he knows, everything around him is dark and there aren’t any more voices. His mouth is a little dry and he licks his lips as he tries to fully regain consciousness, but his bones are still loose and pliable and not really conducive to sitting up straight. Then he realizes that David’s chest, sturdy and warm and safe, is still there against his back.

“You’re awake.” His voice is soft, like he doesn’t want to scare Matteo away. Little does David know that’s the last thing he could do to him right now. Matteo turns around a little, enough to see David’s face illuminated by the light of his phone screen.

“Where did everyone go?”

“It’s like midnight. They all left a while ago. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

Matteo blinks. “How long have we been sitting here?” Long enough for him to realize, in that moment, he really needs to piss. But he doesn’t want to leave David’s warmth.

“I don’t know. I’ve been on my phone for like an hour, I guess. You were really tired and I didn’t want to move either and… well. It was cute.” He sounds almost embarrassed. Matteo laughs, now turning fully to look David in the eye.

“Are you drunk?” Matteo asks, more for David’s benefit than his own. As pliant and vulnerable as he feels physically, he knows he’s in full control of his actions right now.

David shakes his head slowly. “Not really. I only had a couple. You?”

“Not drunk enough to not be sure that I want this.”

David visibly swallows. His eyelashes are so pretty, Matteo thinks as he leans in, but stops himself as another thought bubbles to the surface of his brain.

“Oh, shit. Are my roommates home?”

David shakes his head again. “Didn’t meet any of them except for… oh. Funny story, actually. So, Linn came back around ten o’clock, and she um. She really hit it off with Laura.”

Matteo stares at him. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, they got to talking really fast and then when Laura went home, Linn went with her. It was kind of amazing, actually. Omar wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“That’s… priceless.” Matteo giggles so hard he hiccups a little.

“God, you’re so fucking cute.” David wraps his arms around him, properly, and presses their foreheads together. Matteo’s breath hitches in his throat for what is probably the seventeenth time that day.

“Mm. Could say the same about you,” he all but murmurs against David’s lips, and then they’re finally, _finally_ kissing. It’s unexpectedly more tender than Matteo imagined, what with all the build up, but the way David cradles his face makes him feel like he might implode. Wanting to be as close as possible, he smushes their noses together gracelessly, this time reducing both of them to giggles and ruining the kiss a little as their teeth clack together. They recover easily when David licks into Matteo’s mouth with an eagerness only matched by the way Matteo snakes his hands up David’s shirt.

His fingers brushing against the raised bumps on David’s chest is what makes David break away with a gasp and whisper, “Oh fuck, wait wait wait.” Matteo grabs his face to calm him down and asks what’s wrong.

“I’m… I’m, I should have told you earlier, I’m trans. Fuck, I forgot.”

Matteo looks at David, confident and alluring and suave David, now with a kind of franticness in his eyes that Matteo can tell comes from years of hiding and bottling up and fear, and just says, “Doesn’t change anything.”

David appears to all but melt in relief. His grip on Matteo’s shoulders, so firm earlier when he had pushed him away, softens as he lets Matteo pull him back into a deeper, hungrier kiss, the slow slide of tongues and the taste of David’s mouth twice as exhilarating now with Matteo’s words hanging in the air.

They tangle up together on the floor, not even bothering to move onto the couch, and kiss and touch and memorize each other’s bodies for what seems like hours.

“I wanted to make out with you all day yesterday,” David confesses, pressing every word into Matteo’s collarbone. “And all day today.”

“Worth the wait?” Matteo has his hands splayed across David’s bared chest, having gotten rid of his shirt so he could litter kisses across every inch of scarred skin, delighting in the noises he could get out of David.

“Yeah, but I didn’t even want to waste two days.”

“Thirsty,” Matteo teases, drawing another gasp out of David as he gently bites down on his nipple, then licks across the same spot. “I get it though. I’m fucking gorgeous.”

“Last time I checked, my name is David.”

It takes Matteo half a second and then he lunges for David’s mouth with the kind of fervor he’d only ever dreamt about feeling. “God, shut up.”

David dissolves into giggles again as Matteo peppers his entire face with kisses, before he makes his way back down his chest and digs his fingertips into the softness at his midriff, an inch above the waist of his pants. He looks up, through his lashes, at the boy he wanted to know ten seconds into meeting him, the boy he wanted to love ten minutes into knowing him. Asking for permission now, to love him as deeply as he can, as he knows how to.

And David smiles, with all the trust and affection Matteo could ever want from a single person concentrated into those dark brown eyes.

***

Matteo wakes to a pair of plush lips against his jaw, the welcome weight of David’s body atop his. Nothing short of his wildest dreams.

They had made it into his bed at some point during that time blurring “last night” and “this morning” and fallen asleep finally, after Matteo did his best to permanently meld himself to David. He can’t remember anything that wasn’t David kissing him, David saying his name, David’s heat around him, David’s moans in his ear and against his neck. He doesn’t know if they cleaned up the living room or picked up their clothes strewn everywhere, but he doubts they did.

And he’s never been happier.

“Good morning, gorgeous.”

\--

They spend probably the whole day in bed, Matteo letting David take him apart in ways he had never even thought about. He doesn’t know if his legs will ever be steady enough to walk again, especially after David demonstrates on him just exactly “what I would have done to those fries if we hadn’t been around everyone else.” They kiss more in one day than Matteo thinks he’s ever kissed in his whole life leading up to today. He thinks his lips might fall off and he’d still kiss David forever and a day if he could.

And they talk. Matteo runs his lips and nose and thumbs over David’s scars as he tells him about everything that culminated in them, what he went through to make his body what he wanted it to be. How, for a long time, he felt like he had no hope of ever getting that. David catalogues every mole and freckle on Matteo’s skin as he talks about his mom and dad and how their marriage fell apart in one day. How he never felt like _he’d_ be put together again, let alone his family.

They don’t check their phones, not even for the time. Their only indication of the passage from day to night is the path along which the shadows move, like silent witnesses, from one side of the room to the other, then stretch to cover their bodies in darkness once more as night falls outside their little world.

\--

“What day is it?”

“No idea. I don’t even want it to be a day.”

“I don’t even know what you mean and yet I understand.”

Matteo props himself up on his elbow. “I just mean. If we acknowledge that it is, in fact, a day, then that means we’re, like, part of reality and have obligations and shit. Which I don’t want to deal with right now.”

“Mm. I know this feeling,” David sighs. “But unfortunately for both of us, it is definitely for sure a day and our particular experience of linear time does tie us to this specific point in reality and its associated… ” he presses a tender kiss to Matteo’s belly button, “experiences.”

“I guess it’s worth going through all the bullshit if it means I can do it with you,” is all Matteo can think to say after a solid minute. He curls into David’s embrace for the hundredth time, and reaches for his phone.

***

“I really thought you died, man.” Carlos is still chortling even though it’s been an hour since Matteo broke the news to the boys about where he’s fucked off to for the past two days. “I thought Jonas was gonna lose his entire shit.”

Matteo laughs into David’s chest, only half remembering to keep a tight grip on the cider in his hand so it doesn’t spill everywhere. They’re curled up, tangled together in a pretzel of limbs under one of Linn’s blankets on the couch, in the center of the party around them but oblivious to mostly everything going on.

“This is a fucking great party, you have to admit,” Matteo says, “we’re trying to make up for it.”

“God, you’re gonna be one of those gross couples that only speaks in the royal ‘We,’ aren’t you?” Abdi plops down next to them, cradling four shot glasses with lime slices against his chest and wiggling a bottle of tequila at them. The look of resignment in Carlos’ face speaks volumes, even as he accepts the glass Abdi offers him.

“No, we aren’t,” David protests, and then collapses into giggles again as he realizes what he said. “I mean. I am my own person and so is Matteo. It just so happens that this one has decided that he’s never leaving my side for as long as possible.”

It’s true that they’ve barely spent five minutes apart since they met. Matteo drags David everywhere with him, after they managed to drag themselves out of bed three days ago.

“We were at the grocery store for an hour yesterday because we were buying stuff for shakshuka and then Matteo was like ‘I’ve never done it in a public restroom before,’ and apparently I’ve lost the ability to say no to his face,” David continues, clearly drunk, with absolutely no regard for limits to the information he’s sharing. Matteo smacks him gently.

“Shut up. You gotta admit it was hot.”

They take the shots, Carlos claiming all the while that hearing about David and Matteo fucking in public is more gross than the cheap tequila that burns their throats.

“Sorry,” David says, not really sounding sorry. “Matteo knows how to shut me up.”

He does indeed. The next time they resurface from making out, the heady taste of alcohol and David in his mouth, Matteo’s kiss-bitten lips stretch into a smile as he catches sight of Linn and Laura dancing together, wrapped tightly enough around each other to rival Matteo and David. He nudges David, nods in the direction of the two girls, and bursts into laughter when David lets out a wolf whistle at them. Laura flips them off despite the grin on her face, slinging her other arm around Linn’s neck and pulling her even closer.

\--

Later that night, when the last stragglers have left and Matteo has thrown the blanket over a passed-out Jonas on the couch, he tugs David into bed, snuggling into him and eyes closing immediately when he feels his boyfriend rest his chin on top of his head and his arms tighten around Matteo’s waist.

“Can’t believe it,” he says drowsily.

“Can’t believe what?” David echoes, voice soft, his eyes softer.

Matteo smiles up at him, sleep about to overcome him in a few moments, struggling through a yawn to get out his last words.

“That when… you were… moving into your new home… I found mine.”

_End._

**Author's Note:**

> \- my kink is CLEARLY falling asleep in the arms of whoever ur cuddling with  
> \- i never wanted a david season SO BAD in my entire life  
> \- never I SWEAR  
> \- during/after s4 airs, i might write a version of this from amira’s pov. we’ll see. [reblog this on tumblr if you want!!](https://isaksavedeven.tumblr.com/post/186416247367/druck-fic-we-got-moves-davenzi)


End file.
